


The Morning After

by BalefireFlatlands



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2019-09-20 00:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: The whole base is hungover and some poor choices are made.





	The Morning After

The hallway of the base was nearly completely dark, only a few amber security lights illuminating the narrow space. Spy rubbed his eyes through his mask, walking gingerly and not quite in a straight line. Entering the base’s kitchen he opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, wincing as he went to sit on one of the chairs, adjusting himself a few times, unable to get comfortable. He groaned, dropping his head against the table and rubbing his scalp through the mask with his fingertips.

“Not so loud.”

The sudden voice had Spy jumping, nearly falling out of the chair before he realized who it was. Medic was sitting across the table, nearly invisible in the darkness, a half empty pitcher of water in front of him. He was wearing his white coat, but as far as Spy could tell nothing underneath it, his hair was sticking up at odd angles as he slumped against the back of the chair.

“You look like hell mon ami.” Not that Spy could talk, he had to check under the table to make sure he had remembered to put on his pants before coming to the kitchen. He had. But he was only wearing one sock, and now that he looked at it the reason he had so much trouble putting his shirt on was that it was inside out.

Medic said something gruff in German before picking up the pitcher and drinking big gulps of water directly out of it. Spy followed suit, draining his bottle in one go. “I do not suppose your medical training told you about curing hangovers?”

“Unfortunately no.” Medic groaned, rubbing his temples. “I wish my healing fixed zis.”

The corners of Spy’s mouth quirked upwards. “Well at least you can sit down.”

That actually got a bark of laughter out of Medic before he groaned again, dropping his head in his hands. “Good zing ve don’t work tomorrow. Er, today.”

Spy was about to respond when a loud crash announced the arrival of a third party to their pity parade. Soldier, in only drawstring pants and his helmet fell over a barstool, his hat rolling away and causing both Spy and Medic to groan and yell at him to be quiet. He crawled on his hands and knees to the fridge, half climbing inside it and opening a water for himself. Instead of drinking it he poured it over his head, tossing the bottle to the side and opening another to drink.

“We’re low on rations. In the proper army we had enough water for … for…” He finished that with a grumble as he nearly pulled the refrigerator over as he struggled back to a standing position, hunched over in a way that was entirely unlike the normally rigid Soldier. Spy pulled a chair out for him, giggling as Soldier tried to sit down awkwardly just as Spy had done a few moments ago.

“You’re not going to start blowing zat bugle are you?” Medic’s voice was muffled as he buried his head in his arms, hoping that by not moving his head in the slightest he could fight back this hangover by sheer willpower.

“The morning routine goes on as scheduled! This is a war! We do not stop for mere hangovers.”

Spy rolled his eyes, reaching out to poke Soldier’s head with his finger, nearly knocking him off his chair.

Soldier retaliated with a completely uncoordinated swat that almost hit Medic instead. Grumbling curses he opened another bottle of water, sending Spy a bleary eyed glare. “Fine. No bugle. But only because you ladies are too delicate for battle.”

Spy would have rolled his eyes again, but he felt like if he kept doing that they might fall out of his skull. “Are you aware that your back has the imprint of a Mann Co. crate on it? It even says "Property of Demoman” on it.“ Spy’s finger traced the letters harshly imprinted in Solder’s back, causing him to stiffen immediately and try to take a swing at him. Medic burst into high-pitched laughter on the other side of the table, grinning like a fiend as Soldier knocked himself out of the chair and went splaying across the floor.

Soldier wasn’t coordinated enough to get off the floor on his own, but he sputtered curses and accusations at the both of them until he was red in the face, thrashing about. Spy snickered, but followed that quickly with a groan. Everything hurt right now, leave it to Soldier to come and make it worse.

"I am sorry. Maybe next time you should put on a shirt.” He reached down to help Soldier up, noting that the red flush didn’t leave his face. He patted him on the shoulder before going back to rubbing the migraine out of his skull.

“You shouldn’t tease him Herr Spy. You’re wearing Engineer’s pants.”

“I am not!” But then Spy looked down to check. Oh. That would be why they kept falling down and the lower half of his legs were cold.

“Fraternizing with squad-mates is a punishable offense. I should have both of you brought up before the court martial.” Soldier frowned, seeming to actually think about what he was saying, and the implications of what was apparently blazed across his skin not to mention the very questionable bruises he was sporting. “But as the commanding general of this base I will let both of you pass with a warning.”

“Zat’s very kind of you Soldier.”

“Well you better remember it Oktoberfest.” Soldier grumbled, finishing his water.

All three of them groaned and recoiled as the light in the kitchen was flicked on.

“Uhhh…” Scout stood there, staring at his disheveled and half dressed teammates. “What the fuck? Why aren’t you guys wearing clothes? And why tha hell is the floor all wet?”

“I am wearing clothes.” Sure they belonged to someone else, but at least they were clothes, which was more than Soldier or Medic could say.

Scout just looked unsure, going to the fridge for a soda. “You guys are so weird.” He opened his soda, staring at the three least likely people he’d imagine to be hanging out together. “Dude, Soldier, why does your back have like… lines and letters stuck in it?”

Instead of erupting into fury, Soldier just groaned, dropping his head into his meaty hands and pressing against his eyelids until he started to see bright colors.

“It’s best you do not ask too many questions Scout. Just go back to your room. And turn the light off when you go.” Spy tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out more like a grimace.

Scout had no idea what was going on. Or why Soldier’s back said Mann Co. on it, but he decided he didn’t want to know. “You guys are gross.”

With that said he flicked the light out, going back to his room, suddenly happy that he wasn’t old enough to go to the team New Years party and get hammered with everyone else. Not if sitting half naked in the kitchen was the result.

Medic ran his fingers through his hair, having face planted into the table after the light was turned on. “Wake me up if I go zhrough ze respawn.”

Soldier just grunted, having every intention of joining him there, the percussion orchestra in his head threatening to split his skull in two. Spy nodded, leaning his head against his arms and wondering if maybe shooting all of them and respawining would be the way to go.

He’d passed out by the time he was rudely woken up by being lifted into someone’s arms. Heavy had Soldier thrown over his shoulder, the man grumbling and weakly struggling, he tucked Spy under his arm before picking up Medic, limp as a sack of flour.

Engineer woke with a start as his door was kicked open, staring in shock at Heavy silhouetted in the doorway. When he saw what he was carrying he turned bright red, staring at a plethora of half dressed people. Heavy entered his workshop without a word, depositing Spy on his bed and turning to leave. Engineer stammered something halfway between denial and thanks before going over to see if Spy was all right.

Soldier got the same treatment, Demo not even waking up as he tucked Soldier next to him. Soldier was still flailing and trying to get away, but quieted down as Demo curled against him in his sleep.

Medic wrapped his arms around Heavy’s neck, smiling up at him as Heavy brought him back to his room. “Danke.”

Heavy smiled and stroked his hair. “The three of you drink too much.”

“Ja, ve .. ve know zat now.” He snuggled up to the giant, wanting to just sleep forever.

“Sleep now. You are going to have terrible hangover in morning.”

Medic nodded, already knowing how terrible it was going to be. He closed his eyes, pressing against Heavy and hoping that by just sleeping and being warm it would somehow cure his headache. Much like Soldier and Spy were also doing right now.

It didn’t help any of them, but it was nice to try.


End file.
